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THE PIONEERS 

i POETIC DRAMA IS TIIO SCENES 



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JAMES OPPENHEIM 




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COFfRIGHT DEPOSm 



THE PIONEERS 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

Wild Oats 

Doctor Rast 

Monday Morntkg and Oitier Poems 



THE PIONEERS 

A POETIC DRAMA IN TfFO SCENES 



BY 

JAMES OPPENHEIM 



NEW YORK 

B. W. HUEBSCH 

1910 



CDPYBIGUT. 1910, BY B. W. HUBB3CH 



All ri^ts reserved 



|o 



This play has been copyrighted and published simultaneously in 
the United States and Great Britain. All acting and reading rights, 
both professional and amateur, are reserved in the United States. 
Great Britain, and countries of the Copyright Union. Performances 
forbidden and right of representation reserved. Application for the 
right of performing or reading the play must be made to B. W. 
Huebsch. Any piracy or infringement wiU be prosecuted in accord- 
ancc with the penalties provided by Sec. 4966. U. S. Revised Statutes. 
Title 60. Chap. 3. 



PRINTED IN U. S. A. 



CI.D 230l'i 



TO 

THE FAMILY 

LANIER CAMP 



A WORD 

This little play had its first production at Lanier 
Camp on the banks of the Piscataqua, Eliot, 
Maine, at 8 o'clock of a dark August night. 
Under windy boughs and back of the shadows 
of a camp-fire several hundred people of the 
countryside, bewitched by the wind, the flames, 
and the night, were kind to the unprofessional 
players and the little play. 

A native poetic drama which shall go straight 
home to the people of America rather than to a 
fit few in a private theater is the dream of the 
young writers of to-day. It is my dream too. 
Hence, what a rich joy it was to throw a plain 
tale of '49 into simple rhythm and find that the 
folk of southern Maine were stirred to tears. 
It meant, not that the play was great, but that 
America is hungry for expression, and even an 
inadequate attempt, if sincere, is worth making. 

And it meant something else. It meant that 
7 



A WORD 



the little company of men and girls and boys 
who gave the play threw themselves so deeply 
into their parts that their very earnestness and 
fire evoked something precious in the audience. 
The names of those who lifted the text to reality 
belong to this book, and I give them. 



THE CAST 

John Howard Sidney Lanier, Jr. 

Margaret Barbara Laighton 

David Morrow Peter W. Dykema 

Cynthia Burns Geraldine Slater 

Eagle-Talon Bernard Sexton 

Chadwick Bruce Hoggson 

Tom . . . , Trumball Thomas 

(August 26, 1910) 



CHARACTERS 

John Howard, the Leader — a man of about forty-five, 
tall, gentle, executive, and full of the true fire of 
s power — an outdoor nian. 

Margaret, his daughter— a young woman, about 
twenty-one, a fine blend of the old and new type of 
woman, graceful, beautiful, but free a?id frank and 
companionable; very fnuch like her father, but with 
deeper power of intuition — an outdoor woman. 

David Morrow, a young man with the party — about 
twenty-five, passionately egoistic, wedded to the con- 
ventional, a keen individualist, full of misdirected 
power, and yet overrunning with the possibilities of 
youth. 

Cynthia Burns — - an unmarried woman of middle age, 
timid, home-bred, but following the party through 
her great personal love for Margaret. 

Chadwick, the sentinel— a bluff, jovial man, unafraid 
of anything, and ready for any adventure, loyal and 
steadfast. 

9 



10 CHARACTERS 



Tom, one of the younger men i a pleasant ^ dreamy fellow ^ 
who swears by his leader, 

Eagle-Talon, an Indian — large^ swift^ picturesque, 
slow and passionate in his speech. 

Men, Women, and Children 



SCENE 

The NightU Resty in and about a grove on the JVest- 
em Prairies. Trees about, in the center a camp-fire. 
Back in the shadows a large, white-hooded schooner- 
wagon. Guns against a tree; lantern on wagon. A 
moonlight summer s night. The great silence of the plains; 
not even the cry of the coyote heard; only the crackling 
of the fire and the sound of the wind in the trees. Tear, 
about 1850. 



THE PIONEERS 

A POETIC DRAMA IN TWO SCENES 

As action starts scene is empty. Enter Pro- 
logue, with hand raised for silence, 

PROLOGUE 

Our fire paints the dark with jumping gold, 
The bark of trees shows each black wrinkle, 

leaves 
Sway sharp, and through the shadow-swallowed 

tree-tops 
The low nocturnal music of the wind 
Makes magic of the vast night. Hark! O 

hark! 

[ Pauses, that audience may listen'] 

Spirit of the wind! Spirit of the rising moon! 
Night-spirit! Earth-spirit! I that lift my 

voice 
I, too, am a spirit — you are brothers all 

13 



14 THE PIONEERS 

That sing and sigh and gleam and breathe 

about me! 
I charge you, mighty spirits, hear of me! 
For I am that human spirit that dares all. 
Rides you, O Wind, lights you, O Night, and 

makes 
Of you, O Earth, my home, my tool, my life. 
What if you wrought me? What if your mighty 

souls 
Gave birth to me? I, too, give birth; I, too, 
Create: and all my ages are 
A pushing forward, hand in hand with nature, 
And slow creation of a greater Earth. 
From land to land through age on age I led, 
Till now my new scene is — America; 
My latest, greatest venture. To this coast 
The world sends mightiest dreamers, hardiest 

toilers. 
Her pioneers, and here by weltering millions 
They build a life that dares new heights, new 

heavens. 
Fired with democracy, till now at last 
I am the Spirit of America! 

[A pause] 

That spirit was in the Pilgrims when they 
knelt 



THE PIONEERS 15 



On Plymouth Rock; and in the Puritans 
Working their clearings in the wilderness; 
And with the men that battled on Bunker Hill; 
And with the vast migration that swung tides 
Of people through the unadventured West; 
That spirit rose like storm and shook the world 
Gigantically in our home-spun Lincoln — 
That spirit lives to-day: is here to-night: 
For America is not the magic scenery 
Washed by the sunrise and the sunset seas, 
No, nor yet even the prairies dark with herds, 
Or land-lakes of the Western grain: nor yet 
Wonder-cities white-towered, nor the peaks 
Bursting with metals, nor the smoky mills — 
America is you and you and I. 

[Pause] 

And it is something else. It is the marriage 
Of classic Europe with her dream-stuffed brain. 
Her nimble fingers and her indoor art. 
To Indian, outdoor, tan-faced, native, wild 
America: the wigwam drips with rain, 
The tasseled corn is blown with the wet wind. 
Mist scarfs the mountain-brow, the hunting 

trail 
Runs by gray pools in the splattering wilder- 
ness, 



16 THE PIONEERS 

And the human being is like a breath of the 

Earth, 
Wild with the power that swims in the soil 

and the air, 
Panting with life and with love and desire to 

labor, 
His nostrils quivering as he scents the ground. 
Such, the American: the intricate thinker, 
The lover and brother, and the pioneer 
With that feel of Earth of him inured to the 
open. 

[During the following passage all the 
characters enter^ two or th-ee at a time^ 
and group themselves about the camp-fire'] 

Behold then just such real Americans 
Stealing about this camp-fire, for our scene 
Moves to the Western prairie, and the wind 
Whispers two thousand miles from here, and 

the dark. 
Painted with jumping gold, is full of danger; 
For the pioneers, seeking the manless West, 
Are lonely on the limitless, moonlit plains, 
And the Indians circle them. Hark! now they 

lift 
Their voices in song to drown out thoughts of 

peril. 



THE PIONEERS 17 



And the sentinel, who paces up and down, 
Shouts out: ''All's well!'* — O great America, 
This little band is clearing out a way 
For us that follow. Come, O friends, the Play ! 



SCENE I 



SCENE I 

As Prologue goes outy Tom, standing^ strums 

HotnCy Sweet Home,^* on the mandolin. All join 

softly in the chorus. At the end of song a deep pause, 

during which the sentinel outside cries twice: "All's 

well-— All's well— " 

Howard 

Stir up the fire, Tom, make it shoot sparks, 

blaze big. 
For in this large room of the open Earth 
Under the lifting roof of all the stars. 
We must smell the good wood-smoke of our 

own hearth. 
We are not lonely, we, so close to the ground. 
Where the wild tang and flavor of the Earth 
Absorb us in the Mother. All day long 
We sweated in the sun; now, tired out. 
The bones of our bodies sweet with a day's 

work done. 
We nestle close to the rich restful soil. 

[Pause] 

21 



22 THE PIONEERS 



Margaret 

Inclose to her father y tenderly] 
Father, what is it? 

Howard 
[taking her hand ] 

What is what, dear Meg? 



The trouble. 



Margaret 

Howard 

Trouble? Nothing. 

Margaret 

But there is: 
I feel it in your voice. Come, out with it! 

Howard 

If it's a trouble, it's a trouble shared, 
And so, no trouble: all so close together, 
We comrades like a dot on the vast prairies, 
Here, in the midst of danger, life is sweet. 
What do we lack? 

Margaret 

Ah, father, Ikwow you: 
You cannot put me off ! Your heart is troubled. 



THE PIONEERS 23 

Howard 

\jmilingly] 

Well, so it is: but a most loving trouble. 
In truth, the song we sang carried me home, 
Home, where all life was peace. [Rises with 
Margaret] 

[yf silence] 

Tom 

How far awa}' 
New England is; the rough coast and the sea, 
And the apple-heavy orchards. 

Cynthia 

And the homes, 
Whitewashed and clean, set among quiet pas- 
tures. 

Howard 

The long, long Sabbaths and the sunny morns 
We swung the scythe in the meadows. Wheat 

and corn — 
I can see acres blooming. Oh, New England, 
You are two thousand miles across the world. 

Tom 

Two thousand miles — have we trudged out so 
far? ^ 



24 THE PIONEERS 

Howard 

Yes, and a thousand miles must still be 

trudged — 
Farther and farther, as nearer and nearer we 

draw. 
The Far West vanishes. 

Several 
[like echoes] 
Vanishes — vanishes. It vanishes. 
[J deep pause'] 

Margaret 

[close to her father] 

And yet, father, had you to do it again, 
You*d do just this. 

Howard 

[shaking off his sadness] 

Yes, though it were 
Ten thousand miles: come, Tom, strike up 

a tune 
That sings the future, not the past, and stirs 
Our hearts to courage. [Seats himself] 



THE PIONEERS 25 

Sentinel 

[outsUe] 
Airs well! 

[^// listen] 

[Enter Chadwick, the sentinel, armed] 

Chadwick 
[jovially] 

Friends, all is well. Gazing out under the 

moon 
I saw the whole huge circle of the horizon 
One emptiness of moonlight; nothing stirs; 
That rumor of the Indians we heard 
As we went through the ford, was but false 

news; 
And we may sleep to-night. There's not a fleck 
Of black from here to the rim of the starry skies; 
No, not a stir. [Goes out] 

Tom 
[slowly] 
Vast is the prairie. 

Cynthia 

And still — 
Listen! What a hush! 

[Silence] 



26 THE PIONEERS 

Howard 

None but the savage ever 
Has set foot here. The Earth is as the ages 
Created it: primordeal, fresh and free. 
How good to be the first to dare this land! 
How glad I am we came! What's the man 

worth 
Who does not dare? What manly spirit ever 
Refused to pioneer? 

David 

[risingy stepping forwardy U7iable to 7'e strain 
himself^ 

I am that man. 
John Howard, I have something on my mind 
That I can bear no longer. The time's come 
To speak what smothers in my breast, and say 
The worst. 

\^All look upy amazedy though some with 
quick appreciation and sympathy] 

Howard 
[gently] 
Why, David, speak, that's the man's way. 



THE PIONEERS 27 

David 

[bursting out] 

Why are we here? This senseless, useless jour- 
ney? 

Howard 
[still gently] 
Do you ask that, after two thousand miles? 

David 

[storming] 

I can hold it back no longer. For my own 

reasons 
I followed you: and IVe not murmured once 
As all the long day hand-to-hand with the sun 
I whipped the dogged horses, set my heels 
Deep in the sand and tugged at the creaking 

reins; 
When I went thirsty, I have said nothing of it; 
When I went hungry, not one word, and when 
I limped with swollen foot, not once I cursed. 
But now I can bear it no longer: out with it! 
Why, in the name of all that*s possible 
Are we on this fool's errand? If some night 
The red men round us up, and shoot us like 

dogs 



28 THE PIONEERS 



Our blood is on your head. Back in the East 
I told you so, but you — turned to the women, 
Spoke of some vision, reached their hearts with 

words. 
And stopped your ears to the facts. By heaven, 

Howard, 
What right had you to lead these little children 
On a mad quest in a bare desert, where death 
Circles our footsteps? El Dorado.^ Tell 
That tale to women ! 

Howard 
igenlly'] 

Many have eyes, David, 
And yet they will not see. 

David 

[angrily'} 

See what? I see 
Daylong the red and rolling prairie stretch 
Under the cruel circle of the sky. 
Up from the East the swollen copper sun 
Lifts through a copper smoke, and the burnt 

air 
Palpitates, and up and over the hillocks 
The long white line of our schooner-wagons 
Creeps like a worm from, one huge sky-cocoon 



THE PIONEERS 29 



Into another, and on those moving floors 
The worried women sink and the children cry- 
Not knowing what ails them. This I see, and 

more. 
I see behind each bush an Indian. 
Perhaps even now somewhere are galloping 

horses 
And the armed braves chanting as they race 

with the moon. 
Silently from afar they come; they coil 
Like a snake about us, and we die the death 
Horribly. 

[Pauses] 

In this place of empty silence 
What help is there? 

Howard 

[genlly] 

Why, in ourselves, as ever. 

David 

But where's the end? Each day's without an 

end. 
We have tramped three months and more. For 

what? A dream. 



[His voice breaks] 



30 THE PIONEERS 

Better our narrow acres in New England, 
Green, sweet with merciful rains, and the great 

sea 
Pounding on the rocks of the beach. Our 

dooryards bloomed 
With corn and children's faces. Life was 

good. 
But you uprooted us. Now must you answer 

For our agony. 

[Patues] 

HOW^ARD 

[risingy putting his hands on David's shoulders'\ 

I cannot answer. — 
But now that you have spoken, David, boy, 
And airs cleaned out within, do you think it 

well 
To talk of danger while we are in danger.'' 
We are here; we cannot escape; what help is it 
To pour out all these fears? 

David 
[hanging his head ] 

I — had to speak. 

\Goes off in the shadow s^^ 



THE PIONEERS 31 

Howard 

Come all, you know that Mary's son is ill, 
Down in the third large wagon. Let us go, 
And smooth the lad's night-rest. 

Cyxthia 

Yes, let us go. 

\_AU go, save David, who touches 
Margaret's arm'\ 

David 
I want to see you, Margaret. 

Margaret 

See mCy David.'* 

[^She lingers y and he does not speak till 
all are gone. Then he comes close] 

David 
The things I said to-night — 

Margaret 
{^unutterably sad ] 

Yes, what of them ? 

David 
I had to sav them. 



32 THE PIONEERS 



Margaret 

Yes, you had to say them. 

David 

Tm much ashamed — 

Margaret 
You ought to be ashamed. 

David 

[low} 
But I was not thinking solely of myself— 

Margaret 
Not solely? 

David 
No [hesitates]. Shall I tell you, Margaret, 
Why I have come here? 

Margaret 

Is it a thing to say, 
Or better left unsaid? 

David 

I must speak out. 



THE PIONEERS 33 

Margaret 

You have before — but tell me, why have you 
come? 

David 

[bursting ouf\ 

You — Margaret— -you, you are the reason, you. 

Margaret 
\_shrinking] 
It had been better never to have said this. 
[Starts to goi] 

David 

[sharply] 

You must not go, I have come two thousand 

miles. 
Dared all for you. Is this my answer then '^. 
No love for me.'* 

Margaret 

[controlling herself] 

Oh, David, do not ask me; 
I will not trust a love I can*t respect. 
No, no, your place is in the East where women 



34 THE PIONEERS 



Are kitchen-things, and men are hard and keen. 
Shrewd Yankees. Not for you the New Great 
West! 

David 
[wooingly] 

Oh, but I know what is in your heart— to-night 
In the soft hush of this grove and under moon- 
light 
' Your heart cries out that you and I were born 
For one another. 

Margaret 
[struggling] 

David! [J pause] Til use 
plain words: 
Do you think that you who cannot grasp the 

greatness 
Of my own father, ever will understand me? 
Fm not so keen for marriage— marriage, David, 
Is not the all of woman's life, and better 
No marriage than wrong marriage. For there 

comes 
Upon the earth a newer kind of woman, 
And there must come a newer kind of man 
To be that woman's mate. 



THE PIONEERS 35 

David 

[muttering] 

A woman's a woman. 

Margaret 

No, more than that, she is a human being — 
And I can see her as I would have her, David: 
Athletic, sinewy, sun-tanned she must be. 
Able to run, dive, lift, and leap the hurdle. 
Free in her actions, with the world to range. 
And yet a mother beautiful, a wife 
Gentle and sweet; a being who takes the dust, 
The bread-things and the broom-things, makes 

of them 
Vital adventures. This is my comrade woman. 
She must be man so far as freedom goes, 
And yet all wrought of the eternal woman. 
The graceful beauty and the lovely manner. 
But a new manhood must arise to mate her, 
A manhood as heroic as the old, 
Unafraid of roughness, sweat and life's fine 

dangers, 
Meeting the whole thick fighting world in the 

open. 
Light-hearted, joyous, hardy — yet, and yet, 
Unafraid also of the woman-things — 



36 THE PIONEERS 



Quite unashamed of tenderness and goodness, 
With a heart large enough to house all moods 
Of beauty and music and the old chivalry. 
He must be woman so far as sweetness goes, 
And yet all wrought of the eternal man, 
The creative worker and the woman's protector: 
These are mv man and woman. [Pause] 

David, I ' 
Would hurt no heart, least of all yours. Oh, 

rather 
I'd hurt myself — rather Vd scold myself — 
Knowing — yes, candidly — that all my soul 
Is touched, I know not why — 

David 
[turning suddenly'] 

In spite of talk! 
Why, it's your father, stuffing your brain with 

words. 
But deep beneath, you — love me. 

Margaret 
[tearfully] 

No more, David, 

David 

[exultant] 
You do — vou do — 



THE PIONEERS 37 



Margaret 

No more, I'll hear no more. 
We two would be unhappy. 

David 

But you love nie — 

Margaret 
I— I — what's that? 

[They turn^ a crash of bushes; a shot, 
and a loud cry in the distance,* 'Who goes 
there?"] 

David 
My God, just as I said, the Indians! 

Margaret 
What's wrong? what's wrong? 

[David seizes a gun and starts forward : 
at the same moment cries of women in the 
campy crashing of underbrush, and How- 
ard comes rushing in, musket in hand, fol- 
lowed by the others^ 

Howard 
[shouting^ 
Who goes there? Stand, or we fire! 



38 THE PIONEERS 



A Voice 

[huskily] 

Wait! 

[An Indian y covered with mud and dusty 
staggers in, breaking through the crowd in 
his speed] 

Eagle-Talon 

[haitingy hand on heart to protect himself y with 

shrill gasps] 

White-man*s friend — I — Eagle-Talon — I. 

[Falls exhausted; two of the women give 
piercing screams; the men clutch him and 
crowd over him] 

Howard 
[pulling the men off] 

Make room! stand back! Quick, Eagle-Talon, 
speak! 

[A pause] 

Eagle-Talon 
[looking up; gasping] 
They come, the red men come! 

I An intense hush] 



THE PIONEERS 39 

Cynthia 
[in a shrill whisper] 

The Indians! 
[Suppressed cries'] 

Howard 
Tell me — which way! which way! 

Eagle-Talon 
[on one knee^ gasping, pointing] 

They come 
Out of the blue hills on their flying horses, 
Quick as the north wind — ^and their tomahawks 

flash, 
Their rifles glisten. 

[Rises y speaks in guttural voice , gestures 
dramatically] 

Last night in the sand 
They crouched around the circle of the war- 
dance. 
Chopping the earth and chanting the death- 
chant. 
Under the waning moon I saw the warriors, 
Naked, all daubed with paint — and Eagle- 
Talon 



40 THE PIONEERS 

He, white-man^s friend, he knew. 

[ Taps his chest] 

As comes the dawn. 
He came: he say, put bullets in your rifles. 
He say, make fight. Plenty of Indian comes. 

Howard 
How near, how near? 

Eagle-Talon 
[lifts his hands with fingers extended ] 

As close on Eagle-Talon 
As these few miles. 

Howard 
[turning; in a slow^ masterful voice] 

Men, get your rifles. See the women stowed 
Under the shelter of the wagons. Make 
A breastwork of the horses. Each mind keen, 
Hands steady and hearts calm. We'll meet 

the foe 
With all the white man's might. Come, to 

your work! 

[All hurry out, save David, who de- 
tains Margaret] 



THE PIONEERS 41 

David 

Now that we two may die, O Margaret, speak. 

Margaret 

[hastily'] 
It is too late. 

David 

One word, one loving word. 

Margaret 
[with rising voice} 
David, go in the fight like a real man. 

David 

Is that all, Margaret? 

Margaret 
[bursting out] 

What, shall we stand 
Back here and talk? The men are waiting for 

you. 
Go, go at once. Face the great terrible mo- 
ment. 
The time for men has come. 

[Goes out'] 



42 THE PIONEERS 



[Re-enter the metiy armed. They look 
right and left, and are about to go out when 
Howard speaks. During the speech the 
anions of David are dramatic — at first 
listless — then powerful ] 

[Eagle-Talon disappear s'\ 

Howard 
[ gathering them] 

Draw near and listen : there is breathing time. 
You, you, and you, draw closer; bring your 

souls. 
For I would put a fire into them. 
Men, now we strike for all that we have 

sought — 

[Js he speaks, David begins to show interest] 

Out of the soft and easy East we came 
To found the future in the perilous West. 
Many will say we took the Western trail 
For gold — well, so we did; but something 

vaster 
Swallows that purpose. We have come for 

life— 
Life richer, thicker, happier, m.ore intense- — 



THE PIONEERS 43 

The life 1 lived one morning I remember — 

[Breaks off as Eagle-Talon enters; 
in a quick whisper'] 

Is there a moving shadow in the moonlight? 

Eagle- Talon 
No shadow steals, but Eagle-Talon sees! 
[Goes] 

Howard 

[repeating] 

The life I lived one morning I remember — 

[Pauses ; voice becomes melodious, a 
letting down of the tension; he sends the 
men dreaming. David half kneels] 

Upon that morning heaven was still and blue, 
The air had a cool ecstasy, the light 
Such delicate clearness that trees out a mile 
Stood vivid, cut with shadow, and the river 
Was a blue silence dropped between still shores, 
The huddled grass was dewy, bobolinks 
Drenched the cool orchard with a spray of song, 
And children wandered singing in the sun. 
It seemed as if my senses and my soul 
Were bathed in the deep morning, for my body 



44 THE PIONEERS 

Was glad, my eyes exulted, and my ears 
Heard heavenly music. Men and women all 
Gathered, and with spontaneous unison 
Sang all the morn out. That was life, deep- 
lived: 
For such, we search — 

[Goes on in rousing voice; David looks up] 

We heard that call of God 
Which sounds down all the ages, youth's own 

vision, 
That cry: *'Arise, arise, and follow me." 

[David rises, his face lit with new power] 

[Enter Eagle-Talon] 

[Howard speaks quickly in an aside] 

Sharp, at the first fleck, come. 

[Exit Eagle-Talon] 

Follow me where? Into the fulness of life. 
Into a richer world. There lies the West, 
A breast of Earth all fallow and unused, 
W^here we may build the vision we have seen: 
A life that grows out of the Earth like trees, 
Taking its growth from the soil and the sun 
and the air. 



THE PIONEERS 45 

A life of comrades laboring together, 
Where many hands lighten for each the task, 
A life of joy that springs from labor done, 
Of song and dance and natural festival, 
A life where children may fulfil their promise — 
O to be out there ! to work with the hand and 

the brain! 
To fight the Indians of the long day's work, 
Our weapons plow and broom! To sleep be- 
neath 
Seen stars! to be as free as the veering winds! 
That is our West, and for such stakes we 

fight. 
We cannot lose: we have the future with us! 

All 
Hurrah! hurrah! 

[Enter Eagle-Talon] 

Eagle-Talon 
Many small shadows — far and far, great chief! 

[ Goes out] 

[By main force of gesture, Howard 
keeps the men hacF\ 



46 THE PIONEERS 

Howard 

Now these few sharp, terse words: let each one 

tell: 
Aim low and waste no bullets. Keep together. 
Back every bullet with your heart and soul. 
Think of our women, our little children, our 

West, 
Our God. 

[Listens'] 

Hark! what is that comes down the 
wind? 
Is it the foe? 

[Silence] 

[Enter Eagle-Talon] 

Eagle-Talon 

Their horses gallop and their tomahawks flash: 
They chant the war-cry! 

Many 

They come — they come — they are upon us — 

[Start to go. Howard again restrains 
them] 

Howard 

Then — one word more. We are such friends 
as never 



THE PIONEERS '47 



May gather once again. In this great hour 
Let us, if need be, offer up our lives 
For one another, and if death should come, 
Know that the way up still is strewed with 

death, 
And we but add ourselves to those great 

millions 
Who made it possible for us to live: 
Steady, with sure eye, and with burning 

hearts. 
Come! Answer their cries with silence! 

Come! 

All 
We come! 

[They dash out after their leader] 

[Shots; in the distance the shrilly blood- 
curdling * * Yow-ow-ow ! ' * of the war-cry] 

David 

[aside to Margaret with a great cry] 
I go to die, remember me. 

Margaret 

Oh, David, 
I see a hope for you. 



48 THE PIONEERS 

David 

A hope? Why then 
I go to fight and win. 

[Rushes out] 

[Margaret is alone with Cynthia] 

Cynthia 
[panic stricken'] 
Shall we stay here? Is it safe? 

Margaret 
[hurrying up and down] 

I hear the war-cry. 
Listen ! [Sounds of the war-cry and shots] 

I cannot stay here — ^no— I cannot— 

Cynthia 
It is not safe. 

Margaret 
[with a cry] 

Safe? Who wants safety now? 
Life in itself is unsafe; ends in death, 
Or now or then. What, while the men fight, I 
To stay behind? 



THE PIONEERS 49 

Cynthia 
{clutching her arm y crying out] 

You do not mean to go? 

Margaret 
I must^ I must. 

Cynthia 
But you — you cannot fight — 

Margaret 

The woman's place Is with the man — not fight? 
Then I will bind the wounds. [Rushes out. 
Cynthia following] 

[ The war-cry heard, shots in many dl- 
re^ionSy going out farther and farther; 
cries; the woods full of battle. Noise dies 
in distance, A long silence] 



SCENE II 



SCENE II 

The same: the Jire is low. Ejiter^ slowly j solemnly, 
at a dead-march pace, their heads bowed, four of the 
meriy carrying a heavy dead load in a blanket. This 
they lay gently on the ground before the fire. Features 
of John Howard seen in blanket. All characters 
gather^ look down, broken with silent grief; Margaret 
has head on Cynthia's breast. 

\^A deep pause'] 

David 
How many dead? 

Tom 

Two others, and our captain. 

{Silencel 

[Enler Chadwick, runnings covered 
with dust, forehead bound up] 

Chadwick 

[exultant] 
We have run the enemy down beyond the ford. 
The fight is won; the fight is ours. 
53 



54 THE PIONEERS 

David 

[holding up his hand] 

Soft! 
Look — here! 

[ They all stand away, Chad wick sees 
the body'] 

Chadwick 
[starting forward ] 

What! He? Oh, God, why was I spared 
to-night? 

[Sobs J turns y puts his head in his hands] 

Margaret 
[staggering forward] 
My father! 

[Sinks over the body] 
[Silence] 

Tom 

I saw him die. It was when he led out 
On the last sally; like the truest soldier 
He fell face forward. 

[Silence; Cynthia lifts Margaret and leads her 
away] 



THE PIONEERS 55 

David 

[stands over body, softly covers it over with ends 

of blanket y then speaks'] 
Others he saved, himself he could not save. 
O spirit beautiful and strong, O heart 
Of the great father who spread out his wings 
And gathered us under — manliest man of all. 
He is dead, and we shall give him to the Earth, 
He is dead, and all our hearts are buried with 

him. 
He is dead, but in his death we doubly live. 
[A pause] 

[David half kneels and looks down at the face] 
John Howard, is it possible that you 
Who but two hours since poured out your soul 
Among us, have quite vanished from this place? 
No, when you fell, your spirit rose and swept 
Into our souls, and there it livet and works, 
Rem_aking us. How death does clear men*s 



eyes! 
Oh, now I see! [Rises.] 


I from henceforth 


take up 
The vision and the labor he 


laid down, 


I from henceforth shall make the young man's 


quest. 
Blaze the long trail into the 


sunset land. 



56 THE PIONEERS 

No more for me the easy ways of life, 
No more the toil for self, the false content. 
But the large dangers of the Earth, the sweat 
Of daily work, and charging all, the spirit 
Of trying life out, the divine adventure. 
I swear this hour to be henceforth his knight, 
Armed with his faith. I swear it! 

All 
We swear! We swear! 

David 
Then bear the body to the naked plains, 
And under the moon make burial. [Leaning 

again] 

Oh, John Howard, 

We give you Godspeed, and we dream to-night 

You have stepped forth from the poor body of 

Earth 
Upon some new adventure yonder, yonder, 
In that great West we all shall shortly reach. 
Godspeed, Godspeed! Our voices die on 

earth : 
The stars receive you. Bear the body forth! 

[ They start forward to take the bod)\ but 
Margaret comes and half-kneels — speaks 
as if she could not speak'] 



THE PIONEERS 57 

Margaret 

Father, as you would have it, so I speak: 
Goodby, your daughter is enough like you, 
To face this hour. Goodby, O noblest father, 
O greatest man and comrade — . 

[Her voice breaks; she cannot continue y 
and Cynthia again lifts her up. The men 
bear out the body, and all the others go, in- 
cluding Cynthia, who leaves David and 
Margaret alone, A pause] 

David 
[to Margaret] 

His death has been my birth. He is my father 
As he is yours; and I am a new man. 
Believe me, Margaret. 

Margaret 

[yielding] 

I resist no longer. 
David, my David! 

David 

Margaret! [A pause] 

Now in this solemn hour of our lives 



58 THE PIONEERS 

I see the vision. Not of higher manhood. 

No, nor yet even of higher womanhood. 

The vision is of higher humanhood: 

The man, the woman, and the little child, 

Humaner, humaner, richer in all life. 

We two shall live that life in one long quest. 

Come, let us forth, forth to the spacious West. 

\^They go outy David's arm about her. 
As the scene empties the speaker of the epi- 
logue slowly enters y advances to fronty raises 
his handy and murmurs : * * Hush ! " ] 

[A pause] 



EPILOGUE 

We little human beings have our day, 
Then vanish from the Earth. All we to-night 
Shall soon be but a memory in the world. 
Our faces not among those newer faces — 
Yet are we deathless. Even as the great past 
Lives, lives in us, each cell of blood and brain. 
Each blend of spirit and vision and large dream 
Wrought of the mighty lives that went before. 
So we bend over the unborn beautiful future, 



THE PIONEERS 59 



Out of our flesh create it, breathe in it 
Our faiths and loves, and lo, when it is bom 
Our spirits dwell in it, our faces shine in it! 
So let us now and then turn to the past. 
As we have done this day, and live it over; 
That we may see the daring and the faith 
Of men and women, real and live as we, 
Who made this land and us; that we may 

drink 
Of their strong lives, that we may recollect 
That only a great vision brings great deeds. 
That only hearts heroic, restless hands 
And unafraid spirits push the soul's frontiers 
Into a richer life: which lesson learnt 
Let us build up our brief and hurrying day 
Into such greatness that in some far hour 
Our children, gathered as we gather now. 
Shall re-enact our history and there find 
New faith, new courage, and new enterprise. 
Hush — for the wind is murmuring in the 

boughs. 
The night-wind, and the Earth beneath our 

feet, 
Our common Mother, gathers her children 

close, 
We comrades, and with hearts attuned to 

dreams. 



60 THE PIONEERS 



We find us strangely alive in a strange world. 
Stars scatter about us climbing thicker and 

higher 
Up to the breathless zenith and our Earth 
Rolls, on this night, among them. O rich 

Earth, 
Yet but a fringe on the rich star-filled skies. 
And we but atoms riding on that fringe! 
O mystery! O Power enfolding us! 
O Power within us ! Somehow it is glorious 
Even to ride this narrow fringe and be 
As nothings in the boundlessness of night — 
There is such room for the future, such vast 

worlds 
Yet to be lived, such far adventures calling 
Yonder in Mars or some hid planet dim 
In the Milky Way. Oh, let us fling our 

lives 
In with God*s life, and in our little corner. 
Our cranny of Earth, make our part of the 

world 
Deathlessly great. So was the Past, so be 
Our living Present, and let us remember 
How we bright creatures came this hour to- 
gether. 
Our hearts as one, and under whispering 

boughs 



THE PIONEERS 61 



Caught a brief glimpse of the divine white 

light 
That bares the future. Friends, Good-night! 

Good-night! 



End 



DEC 31 19t0 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 





''I'llHiTii;! 11 riMiiiTr, 



